Before He Cheats
by DatJaden
Summary: Only Jean would think that cheating on Eren 'I have major rage issues' Jaeger was a good idea.


So, things happen when I listen to music sometimes and this is one of them. And before anyone says anything, I am NOT against Eren/Jean. But when I was trying to figure out who would be stupid enough to cheat on Eren he was the only one I could come up with.

I've been staring at this for like a week and as a result am kind of done with it so it's largely unedited. Sorry if there's any massive errors. 8D;;;

* * *

From his seat at the bar Eren could _hear _Jean's stupid jokes and the blonde's even stupider giggles. Every time the high pitched noise reached his ears, his grip on his glass grew even tighter and his expression even more stormy.

Every now and then he'd glance down at the message he'd received from Jean two hours before. The message that said that he had a few too many with Marco and was going to crash on his sofa. Eren was fairly sure that if he texted Marco right now that the freckled man wouldn't even have half a clue about it. Even Jean wasn't stupid enough to tell his best friend about this little stunt. Marco was too good of a guy to condone this. There was also the added bonus of he would have told Eren about it _before_he walked into this particular bar with Armin and Mikasa.

Over the din of the music and other people's conversations Eren caught the sound of the blonde's giggle again and forced himself to drain the rest of his glass before he crushed it in his hand. The whiskey burned going down and did nothing to cool the absolute rage that burned in his gut.

"It might be a good idea to just leave." Armin said quietly, twisting around to glance over his shoulder at Jean and his little girl friend with a small frown.

"Oh no. If he's going to flush our relationship down the toilet then I have the right to get shit faced." Eren practically hissed as his motioned to the bartender. On his other side, Mikasa sighed heavily and shared a look with Armin. He knew that look well enough. It was the 'Eren's doing something stupid' look but he honestly didn't have a fuck to give about it at the moment.

"We're not saying you don't, Eren, but it would probably be a good idea to do this at home." The unspoken '_Where you can't get arrested' _rang loud and clear and he was almost tempted to give in. Until Jean's boisterous laugh floated through the rest of the noise and all reason they'd attempted to beat into his brain washed down the drain.

Picking up the newly refilled glass, he took a sip of it before shaking his head. "But at home I don't get to see just how badly Jean's fucking up. It's like a drink and a show."

Ignoring them and The Look for the moment, he twisted around to catch sight of Jean and his little friend taking up a pool table to themselves. The idiot was leaning over the blonde, supposedly showing her how to set up a shot or something. He might have bought it if Jean wasn't avidly ogling the poor girl's cleavage from his position looking over her shoulder. Some petty part of his mind happily supplied him with the fact that Jean had _never_flirted this hard with _him_. Hell, even in their honeymoon stage they fought and bickered like cats and dogs. It made for some fantastic make up sex afterward, though, so everything seemed to balance out.

Now if they even bothered it was dull and disappointing.

Groaning he grabbed his phone and took a gulp of his drink before sliding off of his stool. Armin made a noise of surprise and moved to follow him only to have Eren stop him with a shake of his head. "I need some air is all." More like something to punch but whatever. "You guys stay here and watch the love birds. Lemme know if they do anything spectacular before I get back."

He could see how concerned they were as he stumbled his way towards the exit but was drunk enough to not care in that moment. Sure, tomorrow he'd feel like shit for it but right now he just needed to a moment to himself to get his head on straight again. He hoped the fresh air would make some of the red tinging his vision clear away.

Leaning against the outside wall, he tried to will himself to think of anything but Jean with his hands all over the blonde inside. Even as he tried to banish the image, the rage and hurt it caused welled up further. Nearly ten years of his life were spinning down the drain before his eyes and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Sure, things had been bad recently but he'd always thought they'd sort it out. They always did, somehow. Every major fight they'd had since they were fifteen had been smoothed out in the end. No matter what they screamed at each other or what stupid thing they did to get a petty form of revenge in the moment. There was always a moment where they realized they were being stupid and settled back into their own form of domestic bliss like nothing had ever happened.

He couldn't do that after this.

No, he definitely couldn't do it. Not with how badly he wanted to go back into the bar and beat the bastard into a bloody pulp.

Running his hand through his hair, his eyes scanned the parking lot in an attempt to find something to focus on rather than his rage filled thoughts. Fate was either smiling down on him or taunting him because the first thing his eyes landed on was the bright red thing Jean called a truck. Unbidden the image of someone waving a red flag in front of an enraged bull crossed his mind.

Maybe he couldn't beat the shit out of Jean directly but his truck was fair game. A grin started to form on his face as he pushed away from the wall and fished his keys out of his pocket. Maybe he'd start with those nice leather seats Jean was so fond of.

Fifteen minutes later, he took a step back and smiled at his handiwork. He'd started on the tires, letting the air out of them and throwing the caps as far away as he could. Then he'd set about scratching the words 'Horse face', 'Cheater', and 'Bastard' into the paint with his house key. Just looking at him gave him a sense of satisfaction. He'd probably have to repaint the entire truck. Served him right, honestly.

Then, for the final touch, he grabbed the baseball bat out of his own car trunk and set to beating the shit out of the windshield and body. He was fairly sure he'd gotten the side mirrors too. Oops.

Standing there looking at the wreck that was now Jean's piece of shit truck, he felt more relaxed than he had in months. Maybe there was something to be said about those anger management techniques Mikasa and Armin were constantly reminding him to use.

Humming happily, he threw the bat back into his trunk and ambled his way back into the bar. When he got inside he didn't immediately spot Jean and his new friend so he made his back to Mikasa and Armin. From the looks in their faces, they knew he'd done something while he was outside and were a little wary about asking.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked easily, reaching for his drink once more while he waited for them to answer. It was watered down and he winced at the taste after setting it down.

Armin hesitated for a moment before turning on the stool a little and pointing to the dance floor. "The last time we saw them they were over there."

He heard the twin hisses of his name as he headed in the direction that Armin had pointed but he ignored them. He'd apologize to them later.

A quick scan of the dance floor proved Armin's words true. In the middle of the floor was Jean and his new friend, wrapped around each other doing something that looked like it could only be called dancing in the most vague explanation of the word. The sight of Jean trying to eat the poor girl's face was enough to rekindle the rage he'd burned out outside. He could hear Armin and Mikasa hurrying to catch up with him but he paid them no mind.

Reaching the two, Eren tapped the man on the shoulder and waited for him to reclaim his tongue and turn around. Once he was facing him, he pulled his fist back and slammed it into his face as hard as he could. From the way he stumbled backwards he suspected he was just as plastered as himself.

He watched Jean clutch at his nose and glare at him, face impassive. It took him a moment but the look of horror that crossed over his face was enough to tell him that Jean had finally recognized him through whatever drunken haze he was in.

Eren didn't wait for him to stammer out some stupid excuse. He started forward again with both fists ready, the world fading away around them as they both fell to the ground. Jean wasn't drunk enough to not fight back but Eren barely felt the blows as he focused all of his rage into beating the shit out of him.

He wasn't sure how long they rolled around but the next thing he knew someone was picking him up and pulling him away. For a moment he fought it before he realized it was Mikasa and gave up. Sparing Jean a glance, he saw Armin helping him up and handing him a napkin to stem the flow of blood from his nose. To Eren's satisfaction it looked like it might be broken. He also had a split lip and if Eren got lucky he'd have a black eye as well.

Mikasa let her arms drop once she was sure Eren wasn't going to throw himself at Jean again. The look on her face said that she _really _wasn't as upset with him as she probably should be. It was Armin he was going to get it from, he knew. At the moment, though, he was too busy angrily making sure Jean didn't have any broken bones.

"Hey, horse face." Eren called, earning him a stern look from Armin and a rather hateful glare from said horse faced bastard. "I want your shit out of my apartment by time I get home."

Because if the sirens outside the bar weren't part of his drunken imagination then he'd be spending the night in holding. Possibly longer if Jean pressed charges for his broken nose and trashed truck. Oh well. He didn't regret it so he really wasn't bothered at the moment.

Mikasa steered him towards the bar and forced him to sit down so she could fuss over whatever cuts and bruises were appearing on his face. In the background he could hear Jean trying to explain himself to Armin and knew without looking that the blonde wasn't buying it. Really, why the shit head thought he'd get sympathy from Eren's best friend was beyond Eren.

From his seat a few minutes later, he could see the owner of the sirens walking through the door. For a moment he was confused, however, since it wasn't the usual officers that usually came to this bar. Reiner and Annie were regulars here and not just because of bar fights but because Reiner and the bartender were a thing.

For a moment he wondered if it was their night off but quickly dismissed it. Reiner would have gotten to them before Mikasa and Armin if that was the case since he spent his nights off with Bertolt. That would have brought the upside that Eren wouldn't be currently staring at a Captain America look alike and the angriest looking man he'd ever seen outside of a mirror.

They stopped to talk to Bertolt first, apparently getting the story from someone not directly involved before splitting up and talking to both of them individually. Captain America went in the direction Armin had dragged Jean off into while Angry Face made his way towards the bar.

"Jaeger?" He asked, squinting up at them. In his drunken state Eren couldn't help but find it funny that sitting on the bar stool he was still so much higher than the officer. From the way the man's eyes narrowed, he seemed to realize what Eren was thinking.

"Did you beat the shit out of your boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend. Yeah."

"I'm assuming the truck outside that's been beaten into a piece of shit outside is his?"

Mikasa's brows rose as Eren nodded. Well, that was another lecture from both of them he was going to get when all of this was over. Officer Angryface just nodded and made a note of it in his notebook before turning his attention back towards Eren.

"You understand that if he presses charges for either thing you're looking at jail time, right?" He said seriously, slipping the notebook back into the pocket it'd come from.

"Yes, sir." And it would still be worth it.

Especially when he watched Captain America lead Jean outside and within a few moments there was an enraged scream that told him the horse face had spotted his truck. Not even the disappointed look on Armin's face when he came back to stand near Mikasa could burst his happy bubble.

When the other officer came back and stated that they were going to take Eren in, he happily got off of the stool and promised to call Mikasa and Armin when his bail was set if it came to that.

* * *

The next morning he woke to a pounding headache and Reiner at the door of the cell laughing at him. The laughing made it worse which only seemed to amuse the titan of a man even more as he lead a wincing Eren out of the cell.

As it turned out, Jean had decided not to press charges and they were letting Eren go with a fine for Public Intoxication. Eren decided he'd have to call Marco and thank the man for talking Jean down. That seemed like it was the only likely reason as to why he wasn't still sitting in that cell with Reiner laughing at him.

As he was leading him out into the lobby, the larger man slipped a piece of paper into his hand with a grin. After the explanation of 'Levi wanted me to give you this', he walked back into the station whistling. Once he was gone, Eren glanced at the paper to find a number written down in a neat scrawl with the message 'call me the next time you want to go drinking'.

In the lobby, Mikasa and Armin were waiting looking like they'd gotten even less sleep than Eren had. Just from the look on Armin's face, Eren was not looking forward to the ride home.

"Charges?"

"None. I'm guessing Marco guilted him out of it."

Both Mikasa and Armin sighed at that and Mikasa reached out to pinch him. "Did you get fined, at least?"

"Yeah. And they _strongly _suggested anger management." He replied with a small smile.

Mikasa just nodded and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "I'll call Hanji and tell her you'll be starting up again with her on Monday."

The look she shot him as he went to protest made him close his mouth and give a short nod.

"Breakfast? I'll pay."

"Of course you will."


End file.
